I've done it once, i can do it again
I've done it twice without a friend
I've done it 6 times in 3 days,
pauses, rewinds, cause delays.

Green grass. Dark blue rooks.
Shadows spread on the meadow,
lazily silently wet their feet in the brook.

Insects are storming the evening.
Their angular legs are loud.
Transparent, glistening wings are strong.

Short showers lean on their shoulders,
cut through the sun. I want to do something,
stand on one leg like a dancer on top
of a big rock and sing like an opera singer,
or jump high and gracefully
like one of those famous ice skaters.

the Uber driver
said, you have
a choice
between Beethoven
and beat boxing

I said, you have
a choice
between freestyling
and a free ride

we both laughed

I covered my mouth
with my hands
and let the spit fly

Last night I was leaving
the dance floor
I suddenly realised
what would happen
to you for sure

I fell off to slumber
counting the days of living number
later fell into deeper isolation
REM
if you know what it meant.

Early morning my normal
waking up signal failed
lights were off
'twas darkness

I did not know who and why
folks were pulling me
they wanted me upstairs
else I should give up my wealth.

Meet me at the center of my dream, at the juxtaposition of time and moment, at the confluence point of my endeavours.

I met a chuckling stranger once, a score ago, by the entrance of the streets at the rustling of childhood fantasies. "What way are you headed my child" ? I sneered at his decision to stay blind to the apparentness of my direction. Still, reluctantly I pointed at a path, I saw him smile as he shook his head and I was irritated by the abrupt end of his expressions.

Loss?
rid it soon
don't rue
travel light

life is good
add value to the cart
shun worldliness

loss is a notion
like grief
even that eases
into impermanence
over time

It is the origin and hope of a thousand children. Tis the love that transforms young seedlings to plants. Its breath canvasses the woods of the Zaire o'er the hills of Zimbabwe down to the lowlands of the Mozambique. It is the great tide that accompanies the Nile to kiss our cheeks at first light. Tis the stars that glitter when the sun slumbers in celestial furlough. Tis the bravery that enveloped the hearts of our forbearers. It is the burning lamp at the towerwatch of the Zanzibar. The courage to walk the dark places in mythical lore.

silk wool sari thread
blind mares' mane
egret feather magpie song currawong
dazzled- close your eyes -
still weaving

ships' rope jute golden baling twine
mud damp reeds scented dried
warp and weft weft and warp

single ribbon snake skin slides
unanchored

by the loom

Jimmy Carter was a goober
who didn't stand a chance
between the perpetually lame duck Ford
and the Juggernaut Reagan.

I watched TV one morning
when Jimmy was president
and even as a boy thought
"what a fine man this is."

Now I don't know
if he was up to the task.
I was so young
when he was swept out of office,
but he seemed like the kind of guy
I'd want to grow up to be like.

Tucked tight in the palm of my hand
It is my staff, my cross, my wedding band-
I am hardwired to the great humanity
And everything ever known BC.

So many friends support my moods
In the Church of the Holy Internet;
We share our love, our music, our foods,
Our liaisons connected like an alphabet.

I shield my phone as it were my child
From the roughness of the rain-
Without it I’m lost, I’m zero, I’m blind,
Disconnected and afraid,

All alone in the digital seas;
I do not carry it. It carries me.